No Such Thing As Stupid Questions
by ExperimentalNotion
Summary: The Arkenstone is burning a hole in her pocket, and Billa Baggins needs answers. "Thorin," she says nervously as he paws relentlessly through piles of gold, "Have you gone mad?" In which Billa Baggins confronts Thorin Oakenshield about the Elves and Men on his kingly doorstep, and won't take no for an answer.
1. Chapter 1

In this chapter, Thorin is exhausted. He's hardly slept, barely ate, and has been searching mindlessly, desperately through mountains of gold to find the Arkenstone for days. He is at the brink of his endurance, and more likely to listen that to explode in anger, just because anger takes more energy and he is so, so tired.

This chapter takes place after Chapter XVI, The Gathering of the Clouds in the Hobbit.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any associated characters or concepts. Consider it disclaimed. Quotes in this chapter taken directly from The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien or the Appendices of the Lord of the Rings.

 _Summary: Instead of tip-toeing around the subject like a proper hobbit, Billa Baggins decides to face the issue like a dwarf and ask straight out. "Thorin," she said pleasantly as he pawed through piles of gold, "Have you gone mad?"_  
 _In which Billa Baggins confronts Thorin about the Elves and Men on his kingly doorstep, and won't take no for an answer._

* * *

Chapter 1

Billa paced the high, stone hallways of Erebor impatiently, wondering what on earth they were going to do. They'd run out of fresh food this morning, and all they had left in their meager pantry was cram, and only enough to last another week.

Her dwarves, rather than worry about silly things like food and survival, were either fortifying the Front Gate, guarding the Front Gate, or searching through the treasury for the Arkenstone. Thorin was the worst. He hadn't left the treasury at all since he'd entered it, and none of Billa's hints or leading questions had been enough to draw him away from his search. He brushed her off impatiently, and then shoutingly. He searched like a dwarf possessed... or a dwarf gone mad. Billa wasn't sure which was worse.

After witnessing the disastrous attempts of the Men and Elves at the Front Gate to negotiate, Billa had had enough with all three foolish races. Four, if you counted Gandalf, and Billa rather thought she should count Gandalf.

Hadn't the fool learned that _insulting_ a dwarf never actually led to a dwarf changing his mind? He'd only dig in his heels, even if he knew you were right, just to spite you.

As for Thranduil, Billa was ready to push him off a cliff, and if he ever dared to climb the Front Gate in search of those jewels he lusted over, she really wouldn't hesitate to give him a shove. It probably wouldn't kill him, but at this point, Billa wasn't sure if that was a point in favor of her plan, or against it.

Bard, well, Bard was the only one Billa had any sympathy for right now. He had been suddenly thrust into leadership after tragedy devastated his home and threatened his family, and he'd only just come out of it alive. He rather reminded her of Thorin, and her heart went out to him. Still, he made demands of Thorin in such a way that saved his own pride, perhaps, but only made Thorin more stubborn.

Speaking of Thorin, Billa was terribly confused. She had come to admire the dwarf immensely on this journey, despite their rough start. She knew she would die to protect him, and had thrown herself into danger for his sake enough times to prove it. She could understand his reluctance to treaty with the Elves and Men on their doorstep because of their demands, but if he didn't, they would most assuredly starve.

The Arkenstone weighed heavily in her pocket with each step.

She sighed. Acting like a hobbit had gotten her nowhere so far. Hobbits and dwarves were different, after all.

Take, for instance, their greetings. Hobbits rubbed noses among their close friends and family. Dwarves slammed their foreheads together and smiled through the pain. _Perhaps,_ Billa thought, _that explains why they are so excruciatingly hard-headed. You have to prove you mean business and have the strength to back up your opinion._

A bold, wild idea blossomed in her brain. She imagined sneaking up behind Thorin and whacking him repeatedly about the head with- was that an umbrella? or a broom?- with _something_ , until he came to his senses. She snorted, and then giggled at the idea. _No,_ she thought regretfully through her unrepentant snickers, _that would never do._

Still, there was something to be said about approaching this like a dwarf. She'd have to be blunt, and she couldn't back down until she was satisfied. Otherwise, nothing would be accomplished. Otherwise, her dwarves would probably starve this winter and so would Bard's people. As for Thranduil's people, well, they'd keep causing trouble until she came up with a plan to stop them.

Billa gritted her teeth and straightened her spine. She had a dwarf to beat some sense into. She scurried to find him before her courage ran out.

* * *

When Billa finally saw him, a tiny figure among the rolling hills of gold, she swallowed down her rising fears and rapidly recited her questions and her opinions in her head. She charged towards him, plowing through the gold with a determined stride.

A few minutes later, she finally reached him. She watched for a moment, gathering her courage.

Thorin didn't look mad. He looked exhausted, and hungry, and worried, but not _mad_. His calloused hands were scratched and bleeding in places from his frantic, unending search. His face was pale and his brow was clammy. His eyes were bloodshot. His braids were frizzed and his hair was tangled, and Billa felt so _sad_ looking at him that she wanted to cry.

She breathed deeply for a moment and pulled herself together. "Thorin," she said firmly, "We need to talk."

He didn't even turn to look at her. "Not now Billa," he said shortly. "We need to find the Arkenstone." It was at this point in the past that she and all of the other dwarves had obediently backed off.

Billa gritted her teeth. "Humor me, Thorin. If you answer my questions, I will search with you until it is found, I swear it," she said, guilt, concern, irritation and worry warring in her.

He huffed irritably, his hands and his jaw clenching. He bowed his head for a moment, exhaustion in every line of him. "Fine, Billa," he said. "Speak."

"What happens after we find the Arkenstone?" she asked.

He sighed. "The other kingdoms are sworn to come to our aid, bringing food and warriors and workers. We need the Arkenstone to begin rebuilding Erebor," he explained slowly, like she was a child. Which was probably good, because even a dwarf child would understand more about this than she did.

"Okay, that makes sense," she admitted. "Why aren't we helping the Men on our doorstep?" she asked bluntly.

He threw his hands up into the air, frustrated. "Billa," he said warningly, "If you have come to - to _natter_ at me like Gandalf, then I suggest you leave _right now."_ He glared at her for effect.

"Thorin," she said, glaring just as threateningly, "Answer the _damn question!"_

Thorin reared back, surprised. Through trolls and spiders and barrels and dragons, Billa Baggins had kept a very prim and proper mouth, and he'd never heard her cuss before. He blinked at her, nonplussed.

"Uhhh," he said convincingly.

Billa narrowed her eyes and repeated the question. "Why aren't we helping the Men on our doorstep?" she asked again.

Thorin sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Why must you question me in this?" he asked her, looking and sounding so worn out that Billa truly felt guilty. Her eyes settled on his hands, still bleeding in places.

She had taken to carrying around a few bandages and some basic salve after tripping and skinning her knees, elbows, and hands so often in the dark of Erebor.

She walked closer to Thorin, who only gazed at her with tired eyes. She looked up at him for a moment, questioning, and then she suddenly gave him a sharp shove, pushing with all her might, and he fell backwards, his arms wheeling and his eyes popping wide open. He landed with a grunt on his bum, gold skittering away from the impact, and then he glared at her.

She plopped down before he could begin to yell at her, and took one of his hands. He yanked it out of her grip, still glaring thunderously at her, and she, glaring just as fiercely, yanked it back.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, muttering what sounded like a prayer for patience as she fished in her pocket for her first aid supplies. He fell silent as she started to dab the salve on his cuts.

"Thorin," she said quietly as he watched her work, "I have followed you away from everything I have ever known: My home, my country, my people and my friends. I have followed you into danger, into darkness, and into certain death. I admire you as a leader and as a warrior, and there is no one I would rather have beside me when trouble comes, but sometimes I question your judgment," she admitted, her voice still soft and soothing.

"Sometimes I think you are wrong. Sometimes, that is because I don't have all of the information that you do. Sometimes, it's just because you're a prideful, prejudiced git," she finished, her voice still soothing. Thorin snorted at her words, but he didn't interrupt.

"Thorin, please explain to me why we are not giving assistance to the Men on our doorstep. It looks like you are abandoning them the same way that Thranduil abandoned you."

Thorin snarled at this, jerking his hand back and glaring at her.

"Please," she continued, "That doesn't fit with what I know of you. The Thorin Oakenshield I follow and admire would never be guilty of the same crime he condemns others for committing. So please, Thorin," she said insistently, "Explain what I am missing."

Thorin did something then that she had never seen him do before.

He seemed to shrink before her eyes, as he curled his legs up underneath him, leaning forwards with drooping shoulders. He hid his face in his hands, and his hair spilled around him like a waterfall.

When he spoke, his voice was small and there was a tiny, weary pause between each word.

"What would you have me do, Billa?" he asked. "Thranduil already aids them, which is more than happened to us. I cannot offer them food to eat, for we have none. I cannot offer them tents, or beds, or healers, or medical supplies. My own home is in shambles, and my own people are at risk. I have nothing left to offer them," he said, so tiredly.

He tipped back and back until he fell against the gold, looking up to the treasury ceiling which seemed almost as far away as the stars.

"For all I am a King, Billa Baggins," he said softly, "I am only one dwarf. There is only so much I can do."

Billa was relieved at the thoughts behind his answer. He did not refrain out of greed, but because he would serve his own people first and had nothing to share. But she had more questions.

"That makes sense," she said. She shifted to sit nearer to his side so she could continue to tend to his hands. His eyes flickered between her and the ceiling, his gaze distant.

"But why not give them the gold they ask for? It sounded like you promised that, back in Lake Town. You said that everyone would share in the wealth of the mountain," she reminded him.

He sighed gustily. "I meant in trade," he grumbled at her. "The men of Dale grew wealthy from trade with us, and so it would be again. I hardly meant that we would be giving out fistfuls of gold for free, let alone _a twelfth portion_." She smirked at his grumpiness. Here was the dwarf she knew.

"Do you think they would go away if we did give out a few fistfuls of gold?" she asked pointedly. He put one hand up to grind tiredly into his bloodshot eyes.

"I hardly know," he admitted. "And since I do not know, I don't dare risk it. It could make me look weak, and we are in an untenable position as it is."

Billa snorted. "You don't look weak," she told him bluntly. "You look unreasonable and cold-hearted. For all you hate the Mirkwood Elves, they are looking a lot more heroic to the people of Lake Town than we are right now. We set a dragon on them, and the elves swooped in to the rescue."

He growled, turning his head away from her.

"I bet that's Thranduil's intention," she said, goading him a little. "He gets to look like the noble, wise elf of old and tries to make you look like a greedy, petulant child, and from here on out, Lake Town does better trade with Mirkwood than it does with Erebor."

Thorin growled again, this time glaring right at her.

"And what would you have me do?" he snarled. "We've already established that there is nothing I can do!"

"No, we haven't," she said sharply.

She finished bandaging one hand and set it down. Then, she held out her hand imperiously for the other. He turned away pointedly. She smacked his stomach and held out her hand again. He waited just long enough to make it clear that he was acting because he wanted to and not because she asked. Then, point made, he gave her his hand.

"I think," she said, unapologetically telling him what to do, "That we should invite Bard up here, to view the damages himself. We take him up to the western guard room, show him all the most damaged parts, and play on his sympathy."

Thorin tried to interrupt, but she smacked his stomach again and talked over him.

"Dwarves are made of tougher things, so perhaps this doesn't apply to them. But, among Men, Elves and Hobbits, showing a soft underbelly is sometimes the best way to keep someone from attacking.

"We tell Bard about the fall of Erebor," here, Thorin tensed, but Billa kept talking. "We talk about the suffering, and the horror, and how Thranduil arrived with an army at his back, and did nothing and offered no aid. We tell him that when a group of thirteen came to reclaim their homeland and crossed through Thranduil's realm, he imprisoned us after we came to beg, starving."

Thorin's lip was curled, sneering at the thought of humbling himself before one who was colluding with the enemy.

Billa smacked him. "Stop that," she said. "If you can make an enemy into a friend, you have defeated an enemy and gained a friend, after all. We explain in detail what Thranduil cost us, and how he treated us, and explain to Bard very clearly that we will not do business with him while the Elves that abandoned and tormented us flock threateningly` around our gates."

"But I've already said that!" Thorin burst out, frustrated.

"So you did," Billa agreed. "Unfortunately, you said it like a Dwarf, and he heard it like a Man, and neither of you had the right of it," she explained. "However, over tea and _cram_ ," she said humorously, "I believe you and Balin and I can bring him to a proper understanding."

Thorin raised an eyebrow, curious, and she continued. "We tell him that we are willing to defend our mountain to the death, but we remind him that his people can't eat gold and neither can we, and tell him that we are willing to trade gold for food. You can use gold from my share, if it really bothers you, because all I'd buy would be food anyway," she said. He grumbled a little, but he wasn't throwing her off the ramparts or anything, so she kept talking.

"Maybe we promise to help rebuild Dale. Maybe we offer to house the sick, young and elderly for the winter. It's sure to be warmer in here than out there, right?" she asked.

He shrugged. She huffed at him.

"In any case, we listen to his requests, and send him away knowing that we won't do anything unless he makes the Elven host leave us alone. If he does as we request, we immediately begin to help as much as we can. We get food, they get gold and maybe shelter, and everyone goes home happy. Hm? How does that sound?"

He shrugged again. "I've already said I'll not deal with them unless the Elves remove themselves, and _he_ said that the Mountain is besieged. I cannot be seen to gainsay my word, and he will hardly come in to enter into private negotiations without his elves," he said. His tone was careless, but his eyes were hard, and just a little hopeless.

Billa searched for an answer. Thorin couldn't be seen to beg, after all. But... she could.

"What if _I_ invited Bard to tea, and gave him the tour (with a particularly knowledgeable dwarven expert along to keep me safe, of course) and then told him our story? Balin supplements if necessary. No agreements are made, but information is shared and reiterated that may change his mind. You aren't seen to beg or gainsay anything, and Thranduil is left out in the cold where he belongs. Aye?" she asked.

Thorin eyed her speculatively, actually seeming to consider it. "You'd just invite him... for tea?" he echoed.

"Mmm," Billa nodded. "Perhaps I'd actually invite his daughters, and he would come along to keep them safe," she improved on her first idea. "That way we can circumvent the leaders altogether, and we womenfolk can scheme in peace. If Bard so happens to come along, well, I can hardly help what conclusions he draws," she said, winking at him.

"That," Thorin admitted quietly, "sounds promising."

Billa smiled at him, and his mouth twitched weakly back at her.

"Billa," he said tiredly, "Dain will be here in a few days. I need to find the Arkenstone before then to cement my position. If he or any of his dwarves found it before I did, they could claim Erebor and all its wealth for the Iron Kingdom, and all my kin in Ered Luin would be left homeless again," he told her gravely.

Billa bit her lip, feeling extremely guilty.

"Help me search, Billa?" he asked.

"Just a few more questions, Thorin, and I swear I'll help," she said softly.

He nodded, resigned. He put an arm over his bloodshot eyes, resting them for a moment, and Billa steeled herself to ask the question that had been burning inside of her since Rivendell.

"Is there really such a thing as gold sickness?" she asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

Thorin threw his arm off and stared at her, not expecting that question at all. He started to sit up, and Billa scooted back to let him. She thought she saw hurt in his eyes, and rushed to explain.

"It's just, in Rivendell Elrond said there was gold sickness in your family, and Thranduil said that he warned Thror what all the gold could bring, but Thror didn't listen, and Beorn said that dwarves were greedy, and I didn't believe them," she said, her voice coming desperate and fast now, "I didn't! Except, you held a sword to my throat when we were running away from Smaug, and you didn't seem to worry about Oin or Bofur or Fili and Kili when Lake Town was destroyed, and after Lake Town burned, you didn't do anything for the people, but just stayed in here searching. So I'm very confused, and I really, truly need to know," she begged him.

"Please, Thorin," she said, clenching her eyes shut for a moment, "Is there such a thing as gold sickness?" she breathed, pleading on her face and in her voice.

Thorin continued to stare at her, but his gaze was more considering. He opened his mouth a few times, and then closed it again, pursing his lips or furrowing his brow.

"No," he finally said. "Not in the way you are thinking."

She leaned back, breathing deeply in relief as he explained.

"The thing is, Billa, each coin in here has a story, and for those who can see, the story is clear," he said, his voice low and melodic. He plucked a coin from the ground beside them and showed it to her.

"Just from looking at this coin, I can tell where this gold was mined, who mined it, when it was mined, where it was minted, when it was minted, and the name of the dwarf that minted it."

Billa stared, wide eyed. The coins looked identical to her. Could he really...?

Thorin continued, "In cases such as this, it is tradition for the coins to be sorted according to families and passed on to their descendants, so long as they swear fealty to the King Under the Mountain. That is why I am so fiercely protective of this gold, because before it is donated to Men who already have the help of Elves, it should first be sorted and stored for my people, the people who mined and shaped it. Do you understand?" he asked. The low rumble of his voice was almost hypnotizing when he spoke passionately, quietly, like this.

Billa nodded, swallowing. "That makes sense," she whispered.

"As for Thror," Thorin continued, "Erebor has not been passed down for generations and generations like you may think. Erebor has only borne the reign of two kings, Thrain the First and Thror, my grandfather," he explained. "Thrain the First, son of Nain the First, son of Durin the Sixth, came to Erebor after Moria was abandoned to Durin's Bane, and began a kingdom here in 1999. His son, Thorin the First, left Erebor in 2210 and took his people north, to the Grey Mountains where they mined and flourished for many generations. Thorin reigned, and Gloin and Oin and Nain the Second and Dain the First all reigned in the Grey Mountains. But," Thorin paused, tilting his head, "Dragons bred and thrived in the wastes beyond the Grey Mountains, and they came and made war with the dwarves, and when Dain the First reigned, a cold drake came down and killed Dain and his second son, Fror, at the gates in 2589."

Billa gasped, riveted by his story. This was far better than any history lesson she'd ever heard in the Shire.

"Gror, the third son went to the Iron Hills with some of his people, and that is where my cousin Dain rules today," he said. "Thror, the first son and heir returned to Erebor with the bulk of his people and built it to all the splendor that it is today. He had known the hardship and terror of the road, the grasping of the winter cold and the implacable advance of illness and disease, and he had been helpless to protect his people. He swore that he would never let his people suffer so again, and he built up such a treasury to ensure that, no matter what happened to the world outside, his people would know plenty and happiness."

Thorin sighed. "Unfortunately, the word of Erebor's riches spread far and wide and came to the ears of the Dragons, and Smaug came down without warning, and laid waste to our people." Thorin hung his head and rubbed at his eyes. "I had to drag my grandfather away from the treasury when Smaug descended upon us, but I do not think it was because he was mad and lusting for his gold. I think he went to find the Arkenstone, so he could unite all the seven kingdoms and take back Erebor for his people, just as I have come to do," Thorin said.

"Thror's intention to protect his people was the unwitting cause of their destruction, but Thranduil, for all his talk, did not warn against the beast for our sake. He wanted us to lower taxes and increase trade with him and used the argument of a dragon as if such a paltry amount could make a difference. Once we were no more use to him, and he could get no more gold nor jewels from us, he turned his back without hesitation. If there is such a thing as gold sickness, it is not to be found among dwarves," he said grimly, letting her draw the conclusion that gold sickness might, in fact, be found in a certain Elvenking's Halls.

Billa stared into the distance, pondering all that Thorin had said. She reviewed her list of concerns and opinions and checked them off one by one. _Yes,_ she thought, _I do believe that covers it. Now for the hard part._

"Well, Master Burglar," Thorin said, scrubbing at his face with a tired hand. "Have I satisfied you? I'll admit it was refreshing to sit and rest my bones for a while, and I appreciate your treatment of my hands, but Dain will be here soon and I must keep searching," he said.

Guilt roiled in her stomach, but Billa swallowed down her fear. Thorin had been vindicated in her eyes, and she would return to him the same honesty he had given her.

"Here, Thorin, she said, stretching out a hand. "I'll help you up."

She heaved with all her might, but Thorin still had to do most of the work of standing up by himself. She didn't relinquish his hand, however, but tugged him along after her.

"Burglar," he said warningly, "You promised you would help me search, and it will be a _very_ difficult thing to keep track of where I have already been if you keep walking away!" he said, almost shouting at the end as he resisted her pull.

She turned back to him and pointed a finger, looking him square in the eye.

"Thorin Oakenshield," she said, clutching her courage like a barrel in a writhing river, "I am helping you to find the Arkenstone. Stop pulling and start following," she said sharply.

He glared at her with suspicious, bloodshot eyes and tugged his hand away, but with a sigh, he took off his coat and tossed it over the pile of gold where they had been sitting, marking his place. Then, turning to her with a rather sour expression, he raised an eyebrow. _Go on,_ the eyebrow seemed to say, _Dig yourself in deeper. I'll watch._

She led him across the hills of gold and out of the treasury. When he balked at the doors, she grabbed his hand and _pulled_ him after her. She ignored the fact that he only moved because he wanted to and not because she had exerted any real force on him, and continued to lead him up into the kitchens.

"Hold on," she said, clutching his hand to keep him from escaping. "Let me search in the pantry real quick. It might have been hidden in here."

Thorin snorted disbelievingly as she rooted in a cupboard and produced some cram. She handed two to him and nibbled on one herself.

"Nope, not in there," she admitted, and Thorin smirked sardonically before biting hungrily into a biscuit. She led him out into the room where they'd been sleeping. Thorin hadn't been sleeping at all except for naps in the treasury, and so didn't have a bedroll spread out. By the time they'd reached the room, Thorin's biscuits were finished, and she gave him the last half of hers. Then, Billa pushed him down onto her bedroll and prodded at him until he obligingly lay down.

"I suppose I'm supposed to check your pillow for the Arkenstone, hmm, little burglar?" he murmured sardonically at her.

"Not quite, Thorin," she said ruefully, sitting cross-legged next to the bedroll and looking earnestly down at him. She bit her lip again, and decided the moment was now.

"I was afraid and I thought you were mad, Thorin, and that's the only explanation I have. Now I've heard your explanation and I know better, and I can only ask your forgiveness," she said gravely.

His brow furrowed as he stared piercingly at her. He started to sit up, but she leaned forward and pressed her hands against his shoulders.

"Please, wait," she said pleadingly, blinking away tears. It was dusty in here, that was all. He paused, body still tense, but he stayed on the ground, listening. "If you do choose to punish me, as would be your right, I only ask that you wait until things are settled with the Men and the Elves and I can be of no more use to you," she finished softly, gazing down at him.

She gulped as his icy blue eyes bored into hers, clearly reading the growing suspicion they held. Silently, she reached into her pocket and drew out the glowing, swirling stone that was known to all dwarf-kind as the Arkenstone. His eyes bugged out, disbelievingly, and she thrust it into his hands, and then shuffled back a pace, still sitting.

He gaped at it, turning it over and over in his hands, wondering and awed and wistful and hopeful, all at once. He swallowed audibly, twice, as he searched for words.

"Billa Baggins," he said faintly, eyes still riveted on the jewel in his hands. "Am I to believe that the Arkenstone was hidden in your pocket all this time?" he asked.

Billa flinched and looked away. "Ah... yes." she said baldly.

He only closed his eyes as if to ward her off and pressed the Arkenstone first to his lips, and then to his forehead, and then to his heart, casting blue, pink, and white light in swirling patterns over him. He clutched it close, relief practically carved into his face. Billa quickly tossed her jacket over his chest, covering the stone.

"So you can sleep in peace, without the others waking you to ask questions," she explained bashfully, still waiting for his justifiable anger.

Luckily for her, it seemed Thorin was too tired and too relieved to be angry right now. The corner of his mouth tilted up in a tiny smile, and he let out a long, gusting sigh.

"Billa Baggins," he murmured, as his red-rimmed eyes drooped and his breath slowed. "Troublesome Burglar. Whatever am I going to do with you?"

Then his eyes were closed and his breathing was steady as he slipped into much-deserved and long-awaited sleep.

Billa gave a sigh, relieved that it had gone so well, happy that Thorin was _not_ in fact mad, and grateful he was resting. She knew he'd probably yell at her tomorrow, but she'd deal with it then.

She laid down, her back to him, and she dared to scoot back a little until she could feel the warmth radiating from him. She grabbed a nearby pack- was that Kili's?- and tucked it under her head. Then, she too slipped into sleep. In her dreams, Thorin was smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any associated characters or concepts. Consider it disclaimed. Quotes in this chapter taken directly from The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien or the Appendices of the Lord of the Rings.

The first chapter of my story begins just after Chapter XVI of The Hobbit. To sum up: The dragon is dead, and the men and elves came to surround Erebor. The men demanded a share in exchange for the help they had given the dwarves, and Thorin said that was fair. But, he said, we won't pay anything until you get rid of those elves. Bard says the elves are their friends and will not depart, and leaves to give Thorin time to reconsider (Yeah, like that's gonna happen.) Then, Bard returns (still with the elves) and declares that unless Thorin wants to be considered an enemy, he will give up a twelfth of the treasure to the Men of Lake Town. If he wants to be considered a friend like the kings of old, he will give up even more out of his own share. Thorin shoots an arrow at his shield, and Bard declares the mountain besieged- no one may enter or leave until Thorin raises a white flag to truce/parley.

 _Summary: Instead of tip-toeing around the subject like a proper hobbit, Billa Baggins decides to face the issue like a dwarf and ask straight out. "Thorin," she said pleasantly as he pawed through piles of gold, "Have you gone mad?"_  
 _In which Billa Baggins confronts Thorin about the Elves and Men on his kingly doorstep, and won't take no for an answer._

* * *

Chapter 2

When Billa woke, it was mid-morning and Thorin was steadily snoring behind her. She grinned, glad he was still sleeping. Partly because she didn't want to face his wrath yet, but also because he had looked so very exhausted and she had been worried about him.

She quietly got up, stepping over Fili and Kili who were also sleeping, and went to find Dori. She had a devious plan to execute, after all. Men to manipulate and Elves to outwit.

She found Dori in the kitchen, fussing over Ori. Nori was brooding in a corner, watching them and carving a block of wood.

"Dori," she said as she entered the room. "I need your considerable expertise. May I speak with you?" she asked politely.

Dori fussed a little more over Ori, and then followed her.

"Yes, Billa," he said placidly, "What can I do for you?"

"Thorin has charged me with going down to the enemy encampment and finding an alternate way to break this siege," she said bluntly. "I need you to dress and style me in such a way where I look particularly harmless. Sweet, even. _G_ _uileless,_ " she emphasized.

Dori stared at her for a moment, clearly not expecting that. He blinked a few times and then came to his senses.

"Well, that's hardly a conventional plan, but I've learned by now that you and conventional plans rarely get along," he said thoughtfully, rubbing his hands.

He rubbed his chin for a few moments and considered his options. After a moment, his eyes brightened as inspiration struck. "Come along, Billa, I have just the thing," he said and Billa eagerly skipped after him.

* * *

Two hours later it was nearly lunchtime, and Billa was ready. Dori had stitched furiously to create a rich purple dress out of a regal old curtain. Nori had been shanghaiied into arranging her hair.

He had brushed it and braided parts around her face, braiding in flowers snitched from Bifur's pockets.

She twirled for them, and they grinned at each other, pleased with their work. Billa smiled, pleased to see them working together.

Nori gasped. "Here," he said, ducking into the kitchen and returning with a basket. "This will complete the look. Hang it from your arm and fill it with flowers on the way."

Billa did so, and they nodded, satisfied. She made her way through the sleeping room, and was temporarily waylaid by Fili and Kili who whistled at her and then whirled her between them in a dance step.

Thorin, who was looking much better and re-braiding his hair, gave her a sharp look-over, and then nodded. "You'll bring them back?" he asked.

Billa nodded. "I'll try and try again until I succeed," she confirmed.

"Good," he said shortly. "Off with you."

She smiled and made her way to the Front Gate, where Bofur was on watch. He admired her too for a few minutes, and then carefully lowered her down the gate.

For all her dislike of heights, Billa had to admit that the view was beautiful, and having seen the way her dwarves could heft axes and boulders without breaking a sweat, she had little fear that he would drop her. Once she was safely on the ground, she waved up at Bofur and then wandered her way towards the camp, plucking flowers and singing a Shire song as she did.

Bofur, watching her walk away, thought that he'd never seen a sweeter, more guileless picture of innocence. He shook his head with a rueful laugh. Those Elves and Men would never know what hit them.

* * *

Several hours later, Thorin and Balin stood watch at the Front Gate, waiting worriedly for Billa's return.

"I don't like this, Balin," Thorin muttered into his adviser's ear. "She's been gone too long. Her faith in them was misplaced. I wouldn't be surprised if they take her hostage and try to ransom her back to us," he said bitterly.

Balin sighed. "There's nothing we can do, Thorin. Either she'll find a way or she won't, and we'll be none the wiser until either she returns or they send a messenger." Balin said.

Thorin sighed irritably. He'd sent out Ravens to watch for her in case of trouble, but they hadn't yet reported.

He'd woken from the most restful, restorative sleep he'd ever had in his life, with all of his aches and pains healed. The Arkenstone had glowed reassuringly in his hands, and he'd almost wept in relief that it had truly been found. He knew now that, as long as he could last until Dain arrived, his kingdom and his people would finally, truly flourish.

He'd also sent Ravens back to Ered Luin, with the story of Erebor's reclaiming up until now and instructing them to come as soon as it was safe to travel in the Spring.

Since then, he'd directed his dwarves to work on reinforcing the Front Gate and clearing out the rubble from where Smaug had destroyed the secret gate. If necessary, he hoped they could sneak out of the secret gate to hunt and forage, and fend off starvation for a little longer.

"Thorin! Can you see?" Balin interjected eagerly, breaking Thorin from his thoughts. "Is that our Burglar?"

Thorin peered over the wall, casting his gaze about until- there she was.

"Aye, Balin," he reassured the older dwarf, who's eyes had grown dim with age. "Though she is alone, and several hours overdue," he added grumpily.

When Billa had finally been lifted up to the Front Gate, she gave lifted a layer of flowers out of her basket and passed them to Bifur. He smiled at Billa and his rough, callused fingers immediately began to start weaving some sort of flower chain. The rest of the company, however, was fixated on what was in the bottom of her basket: two loaves of _bread_. Not cram, but real, fresh, sweet-smelling _bread!_ Immediately, Thorin felt his mouth watering, and knew that every dwarf around them could feel the same.

Billa offered him the basket with two hands, and he took it. Then he fished a small dagger from a pocket, and immediately began cutting the bread into portions- fourteen portions, one for each of them. Billa, who had already eaten that day, split her portion in half and shared with Fili and Kili. She didn't need anymore.

A few moments later, the fresh, sweet, _still-warm_ bread had been devoured, and it had tasted as delicious as it smelled. Unfortunately, two loaves of bread between 13 dwarves means terribly small portions, terribly unsatisfying portions. Still, it was better than cram.

After the bread was gone and every crumb had been savored, Thorin looked at Billa, and Billa started to explain.

"It was rather easy, to wander into the camp. I didn't think Bard himself would be particularly interested in speaking to me, but I knew his daughters would. We'd rather become friends in Lake Town, and I thought that would be the smartest way to start. When I found them, I let myself be seen, and after we'd reunited, I told them I was terribly bored in the mountain, and that I'd come out to seek some female company. They invited me into their tent and we had a bit of tea with the herbs I'd gathered on the way over, and we spent a pleasant hour -" At this point, Thorin's lips were pursed in a clear sign of impatience, so Billa huffed and skipped to the part he wanted to know.

"I invited the ladies to tea tomorrow morning, swore to them that they would be brought safely to our mountain, conducted safely through our mountain, and returned promptly to their camp unharmed and at their own free will. They are willing to listen to our side of the story, and do what they can," Billa finished.

Thorin's eyes narrowed. "So, to sum up," he said shortly, "Our fate is in the hands of two children of Men, and is being decided by little girls playing at a tea party. Is that all?"

Billa narrowed her eyes right back, but her voice tone stayed calm. "If nothing else, you got something other than cram today. Sigrid is a level-headed and capable young women. I am confident she will see reason," she assured him.

Thorin said nothing, but turned and walked away. After a few minutes, everyone followed, except Bifur, who was on guard duty.

* * *

The next morning, Billa put on her purple dress, and Nori did her hair, and Dwalin lowered her from the ramparts.

Thorin and Balin took their breakfast (one cram biscuit each) out in the fresh air as they waited for her.

"I am rather displeased at this course of action," Thorin announced after he swallowed down a mouthful of cram.

Balin was chewing, and required a moment before he could speak clearly. "Well," he said at last, "We've had worse plans that ended better, haven't we?" He thought for a moment, and then added, "And better plans that ended worse."

Thorin grunted, but had to agree. "That is the only reason I agreed to it," he said gruffly. "Didn't think barrels would work, but I crawled in one anyway. You know the saying, Balin," he said.

Balin nodded sagely and quoted the saying Thorin had in mind. "Indeed. 'The only way out is through.'"

"Still..." Thorin said.

Balin nodded. "Still," he agreed.

They both blew out a long, worried, skeptical sigh.

Then they waited.

* * *

An hour or so later, a Raven swept down and landed at Thorin's feet. It hopped rather excitedly, and jumped eagerly between Thorin's feet and the rampart wall.

On cue, Billa, Sigrid, and Tilda were just barely visible, making their way towards the front gate.

"Tis the lass," Balin whispered.

"Tis the lass," Thorin grumbled.

As per the plan, he vanished from the ramparts before they could see him, sending Bofur up in his place. Thorin lurked in the shadows, out of sight but just within earshot.

Bofur hauled up Sigrid first, at her insistence, and then Tilda, leaving Billa for last. Bofur, as agreed, greeted them jovially but stayed behind to keep watch.

Billa asked Balin to help her take her young friends on a tour and show them the grandeur of Erebor. Thorin, using his expert knowledge of Erebor and his superior night-vision (compared to the eyes of Men) was easily able to trail them throughout the castle, listening to Billa's descriptions and Balin's interjections, accompanied by Tilda's gasps throughout the story, occasionally interrupted by Sigrid's pointed questions.

Thorin had to admit that he gained a little more respect for the daughters of Men, and indirectly, their father. Sigrid was clearly a woman of intelligence and shrewdness, able to cut to the heart of the matter and judge clearly. She was also rather firm in her opinion of Thorin, which made the spying dwarf grit his teeth and swallow down his anger more times than he could count.

Billa explained how they had fled from Smaug through the mountain as Balin led them to the Western Guardroom. Sigrid stared in muted horror at the desolation and death there, and Tilda wept. Billa wept a little now, too, as she remembered her own desperation when trapped in this room, and knew these poor skeletons had suffered a terrible fate.

Sigrid's hostility became considerably more muted after they left that room. Balin led them down to the forges then, as Billa described how they had lured the dragon there.

She interjected comments like, "Here, Smaug tried to eat Thorin, but Thorin jumped down that shaft clinging to a rope and Smaug clawed his way after him," throughout the journey. When they reached the forges, still smoldering, Thorin listened with a smile as Billa described his actions.

"Thorin knew we needed to light the fires, though I didn't know what he was planning. Unfortunately, we had nothing to light them and no time to wait. Smaug was right behind us! Just as we were giving up hope, Thorin came up with an audacious plan. He called out to Smaug and taunted him," Billa was sharing the story enthusiastically, and Thorin rather liked the way she retold it. _I sound rather heroic,_ he thought, pleased.

"Thorin tried to lure the Wurm away from Lake Town," she was explaining earnestly. "Not only because you had sheltered us, but also because his sister's sons were there also. Alas, just as we thought the beast was dead, he burst from the molten metal, and tore through the gate," she said solemnly.

They were silent as Balin led them up, heading to the kitchen. Thorin waited eagerly for Billa to broach the subject of the elves. She did not fail him.

When Tilda asked how _she_ came to be mixed up in things, Billa laughed and spun a wonderful story of how they showed up on her doorstep and then she joined them on their journey. Thorin couldn't help but notice that in her story, he himself was half as rude and twice as wise, which was not nearly the way Thorin remembered things.

Billa explained how they took refuge in Rivendell and Lord Elrond read them secret runes on the map, how he identified the elven blades they'd found in the Trollshaws, and gave them hospitality and provisions for their journey forward. She explained their fall into Goblin Town, Gandalf's rescue, and then their flight from Azog and being carried by the eagles, and finding Beorn's house while being chased by an enormous Bear.

Tilda was wide-eyed and wonderstruck through her story, and Sigrid seemed a entranced by her tale. Thorin thought to himself that neither of the girls had probably never been far beyond the reaches of Lake Town, for all that their father ferried barrels. Billa's first-hand tales of the world must be more than they had ever imagined.

Then, Billa described grimly how they had wandered in Mirkwood as their supplies ran low. She described Bombur's fall into the enchanted river and how they'd had to carry him. How, after their food ran out, they heard the party of the Elvenking and smelled the food and the music. Starving, they had gone to beg. Then the attack of the spiders and her grisly rescue, and then being captured by the Elves.

"Is that why Thorin has such a ridiculous hatred for the elves?" Sigrid interjected sharply, and Balin took over.

"No, Miss Sigrid, though that's just the latest in a long string of difficulties," Balin said, sighing. "When Thror ruled over the mountain, Thranduil and he had an alliance and shared trade. We had no real grievance with the elves then, and they were welcome in this mountain. Unfortunately, all that changed when the dragon attacked."

Balin's voice turned low and hypnotic as he described the horrors of Smaug's attack, and the devastation of their nation.

"When we saw the armies of the Greenwood on our doorstep," Balin said, "we prayed in relief. We knew that with Thranduil's aid, we could slay the dragon and our people would be saved. When Thranduil turned away, he condemned us, and we paid bitterly. You see," he said, his voice hitching with emotion, "Only half of our nation managed to escape the mountain, and of those that escaped, half again died of their wounds in the next month. When the Elvenking turned away, he didn't just deny us military aid."

Balin's voice grew louder and more impassioned. "He denied us food, shelter, healers, any aid at all! We wandered, a quarter of our original numbers, and even more died to starvation, cold, and disease. The young and the elderly fell first, and then our females took the brunt. No matter how we tried to save them, gave them the greater portion of food or the most blankets, it seemed the wave of death was implacable."

Balin's voice turned hollow now, weak with grief. "My parents and my mother's brothers were killed outright by Smaug, and my mother's brother's wives died from their injuries within a month. My cousins, Loris, and Nuba, and Gridwin all died within three years, as well as my little sister."

Thorin felt tears in his eyes as he listened to Balin's roll of grief. Each dwarf kept a roll of names, the names of the dead, the names of the family they had lost to Smaug, to Thranduil, and to injustice, war, cruelty, and neglect since the loss of Erebor. Thorin had his engraved in black ink tattoos on his back, in tiny ink. His personal family were listed by name, but there were far too many of his subjects to list, even if he used his entire skin to write them. His listed them by clan, and then generation, and then gender, and each group had tallies and numbers to mark the loss. There were thousands of tally marks on his back. Each year, more were added. The count would not stop until all his kin were safe in Erebor.

"My own wife," Balin said, with fists clenching helplessly and tears running like rivers into his beard, "My wee son. So many were lost. If Thranduil had just-" He gasped roughly, choking on sobs and unable to speak any more.

The party was no longer moving towards the kitchen. They were standing, shocked, in the corridor while Billa, who was weeping herself, embraced Balin tightly and shared her handkerchief to mop away his tears. After several moments, Balin waved a hand and pulled away from Billa, as if to say that he was fine. He turned and silently led them towards the kitchen, shoulders still tense under the heavy weight of grief, and after the girls had seated themselves in the kitchen, he left them there without another word.

Dwalin was sitting in the adjacent sleeping room, and Thorin watched as Balin walked right up to his brother and embraced him tightly. Dwalin didn't speak, but only gripped his brother tightly in return. Thorin glanced at Sigrid, and noted that Sigrid watched them too, with a furrowed brow and a thoughtful gaze.

Billa took up the tale, explaining their imprisonment at Thranduil's hands even though they had been lost, and starving.

"We had to escape if we ever wanted to make it to Erebor," she said briskly as she brewed some tea made from plants she'd gathered on her way. She served a few cram biscuits, which Tilda eyed with a grimace and Sigrid politely declined.

"I myself have great respect for most elves," Billa said, "Lord Elrond and his people especially. They were all that is hospitable and wise and good. I would count myself happy to live among them for the rest of my life," Billa said. Thorin gritted his teeth.

"Thranduil, however," Billa said, shaking her head cautiously, "I was most disappointed by him. There was none of the compassion, generosity, nor the nobility that I had come to expect from such a powerful, long-lived elf king. Our only crime was being lost and hungry, but Thranduil locked us in cells, taunted us, and took all of our possessions. Orcrist, he took from Thorin, even though it had been given to him by Lord Elrond. When we finally made our escape, we were hunted by orcs and elves alike, and Kili, Thorin's nephew, was shot.

"Then we found your father, Bard," Billa said laughing briefly at the memory, "And I think I have explained the full tale. That's why Thorin won't negotiate as long as Thranduil lays siege to his gates. He does not trust him, nor respect him, not because of prejudice, but because of a long life of grief and suffering that Thranduil could have, should have eased. And, as you can see from our stores, Sigrid, we have little enough to offer you now in way of aid as it is. We can neither of us eat nor heal with gold," she said wryly, echoing Bard's words at the gate, and Sigrid gave a dry quirk of her lips in acknowledgement.

Tilda burst into questions, which Billa answered good-naturedly while Sigrid stared down into her teacup, deep in thought.

Thorin watched carefully as Billa finally escorted them out and Bofur let them down the wall. As they walked away, Thorin came up beside Billa, gazing over the ramparts.

"Well?" he asked her gruffly. She glanced at him shyly, facing him for the first time since she had confessed her deception. "Did it work?" he clarified when she said nothing, "Or will Sigrid simply report how hungry we are and continue to starve us out?"

She looked down at her toes, wiggling them bashfully as she considered his words.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, looking into his eyes. "But if you wish, I will go again tomorrow and see if things have changed. And if..." she trailed off, looking down again and grinding a toe into the stone battlements.

Thorin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with her reticence.

"Speak, Burglar," he commanded. "If what?"

She swallowed, visibly gathering her courage. "If they do come back in force, if the elves are still there, I could report that you were unwilling to speak to them and give the elves a..." she trailed off and then looked him firmly in the eye, "give the elves a well-deserved dressing down, and Gandalf too," she offered him, sounding determined.

Thorin gave a little half smile. His burglar had the oddest ways of showing her loyalty and offering her services.

"We shall see, little burglar," he said, leaving Bofur on watch as he turned back into the mountain. Billa trotted loyally after him on silent, furry feet. "We shall see."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any associated characters or concepts. Consider it disclaimed. Quotes in this chapter taken directly from The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien or the Appendices of the Lord of the Rings.

 _The Arkenstone is burning a hole in her pocket, and Billa Baggins needs answers. "Thorin," she said pleasantly as he pawed through piles of gold, "Have you gone mad?" In which Billa Baggins confronts Thorin about the Elves and Men on his kingly doorstep, and won't take no for an answer._

* * *

Chapter 3

The next morning, a party of four thin, scruffy-looking Men came up to the Front Gate bearing large packs on their backs. Bifur, who was on watch, quickly sent for Thorin, who came flanked by Fili, Kili, Balin and Dwalin, with Billa fluttering curiously behind.

After much experimentation among elves, Men, and Wizards, Billa had discovered that the success rate of negotiations was directly inverse to Thorin's involvement with them. In other words, if she wanted negotiations to go well, she had to keep the negotiations as far away from Thorin as possible. Luckily, she had a plan.

Thorin was about to begin bellowing down at them when Billa tugged shyly on his sleeve. He raised an impatient eyebrow at her. _Get on with it_ , the eyebrow demanded.

Billa got on with it. "Instead of shouting at each other, I could go down and see what they want, and then come and tell you," she offered quietly.

"And if they take you hostage?" Thorin said dourly.

Billa smiled. "Kili will shoot them and I can disappear or slash at their legs until they leave," she shrugged. Over her shoulder, Thorin could see Kili grin at her confidence in his abilities.

After a moment, in which the Men below were shifting nervously, Thorin jerked his head towards Bifur, who took the hint and readied a rope to lower Billa down.

Three minutes later, Billa was on the ground, and the dwarves were watching anxiously with arrows nocked. Despite their suspicions, Billa herself was all smiles and politeness as she curtsied to the Men. After a few minutes, the Men began to remove their packs one by one, and opening them up for Billa to look through. Kili was moving from foot to foot, restless, as they watched and strained their ears in vain to hear the conversation.

Fifteen minutes later, Billa signaled for the rope and was pulled back up.

"Well?" Thorin demanded gruffly as they all crowded around her.

"These Men are smugglers bearing food that they are willing to sell to us for gold," she said, smiling. "I'm pretty sure this is Bard's way of working around the elves, since it looks like a lot of that food was given to the Men by the Elves."

Thorin arched his other eyebrow, the skeptical one. "You think this was sanctioned by Bard?" he said dubiously.

Billa shrugged. "Smugglers bearing food come to us the day after Bard the Smuggler hears our side of the story and sees our food stores? I doubt it's a coincidence," she said earnestly.

Thorin pursed his lips. "How much do they have?"

Billa grinned. "Four packs filled to the brim with smoked meat, fresh bread, cheeses, wine skins, potatoes, yams, and even apples," she said happily. Most of the dwarves groaned in hunger, sick of cram.

Fili groaned in disgust. "Please, not apples."

Thorin ignored him. "How much do they want?"

Billa handed him a bag of rocks by way of an answer.

He hefted it in his hands, calculating how much gold it would take to weigh the same. He barked out a number in Khuzdul and then tossed it to Bifur, who was known to have a superior stone-sense. Bifur weighed it carefully, and then adjusted the number half a fraction up. Thorin nodded.

"Tell them we have a deal," Thorin said as Bifur ran down to the treasury to fill up the bag.

Down on the ground, the Men were sitting, and they waited as Billa was lowered down. Billa smiled eagerly at the Men. "We have an agreement, noble smugglers," she told them as she sat next to them. "They are filling your bag of gold now. May we begin sending up the bags?" she asked.

The leader, a Man named Jord, shifted uncomfortably. "Miss Billa," he started, "What if he changes his mind after the bags are up there?"

After the recent difficulties between Man, Elf, and Dwarf, Billa understood their fear, and took a moment to think of a solution. "How about we lift up two bags, and then they send down the gold, and then we send up the other two bags?" she offered. "That way each side risks a little and has to trust the other to live up to their word. Is that acceptable?" she asked.

They glanced between themselves, nodding, and then turned to her in agreement.

"Wonderful," she said, smiling. They helped her attach the first two bags to the rope, which Thorin and Dwalin hauled up swiftly.

When Thorin saw that they didn't immediately send up the last two bags, he started to get suspicious, but couldn't talk to Billa since she knew neither Khuzdul nor Iglishmek, and it would hardly do to accuse them in their own language while Billa was still vulnerable down there. He glanced around, looking for a plan. Several ravens were perching on the gate, watching curiously. He beckoned to them, and they fluttered their wings and hopped around, cackling at each other until one flew towards him.

"Can you speak?" Thorin asked the bird. It hopped a little, and then nodded exaggeratedly, and then shook it's head.

"Curn yurr sperk?" it gurgled at him. Thorin blinked, taken aback. Well, close enough.

"Go down to Billa. Ask why she waits."

"Whirr sherr werts?" the bird offered. Thorin shook his head.

"Say this. 'Send up bags," he tried.

"Serd urp bergs," the bird said. Thorin nodded.

"Good. Go and say that," he said. The bird flew down to Billa, landing bravely on the arm she offered when she saw it coming.

Thorin watched as Billa tilted her head towards the bird, and then shook her head. She spoke to the bird for a moment, while the Men watched curiously. Then the bird burst away from her arm, leaving a few dark feathers behind and was winging up to Thorin.

"Gird first," it said cheerfully as it hopped excitedly on the ramparts. "Gird first, gird first, gird first."

Kili laughed at its exuberance and Fili offered it a crumb from the fresh bread loaves. It gulped it down eagerly, and went back to hopping in front of Thorin and repeating its message until Thorin's eyes were twitching with irritation. Then, Bifur arrived with a bag of gold in hand, and Thorin grimaced as they sent it down. He only hoped Billa knew what she was doing. If they didn't get the rest of the food, this lost gold was coming out of _her_ share.

Then the Men were opening and inspecting the gold, and Billa was smiling up at him, the sun glinting on the curls in her hair and making her blue eyes gleam. They tied the bags to the rope, and Billa held the rope tightly and waved at the Men as she was hauled up.

"Will they come again?" Fili asked eagerly from behind him, already gnawing on a piece of dried meat. Kili, Thorin could see, was chewing on an apple and teasing his brother with it.

Billa was beaming at them, flushed with triumph at the successful negotiations. "I told them we would love to continue trading with them," she informed the dwarves as they helped her up onto solid rock.

As the bags were hauled into the mountain, the dwarves were laughing and shouting and singing, and Thorin watched them go with relieved eyes before turning to Billa.

He had yet to punish her for hiding the Arkenstone from him, and he could see that she remembered this by the way she looked down and fumbled nervously with her fingers, avoiding his gaze. Still, his two largest problems (namely, finding the Arkenstone and avoiding starvation) had been solved in the past three days, and he was feeling almost charitable.

"I've not decided your fate," he told her, and watched her little shoulders fall a little. "But I will remember your successes when I do," he promised, and her head came up, with another beaming smile on her lips.

Thorin didn't think he'd seen her smile this much since they met, not even in Rivendell, and it pleased him in a way. Of course she should smile more in Erebor than in Rivendell. Who wouldn't? Nevertheless, his lips quirked up in a tiny half-smile of his own, and she smiled even wider. Then he turned and they followed after the others, looking forward to real food for the first time in days, and full bellies for the first time in weeks.

Thorin started to sing, and Billa was quick to join in, her voice twining around his. _For the first time in a long time,_ Thorin thought, _things are finally starting to look up._


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any associated characters or concepts. Consider it disclaimed. Quotes in this chapter taken directly from The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien or the Appendices of the Lord of the Rings.

 _The Arkenstone is burning a hole in her pocket, and Billa Baggins needs answers. "Thorin," she says nervously as he paws relentlessly through piles of gold, "Have you gone mad?" In which Billa Baggins confronts Thorin Oakenshield about the Elves and Men on his kingly doorstep, and won't take no for an answer._

* * *

Chapter 4

Billa stared, disbelieving. Fili and Kili were staring too, but Nori was, rather inexpertly, stifling his snickers at her shock.

"Pig," she muttered, stunned. "...Pig."

"Pig," Fili and Kili agreed bemusedly. Nori bent over, still snickering. Balin, as always, had more light to shed on the issue.

"That is a war-sow, specially bred for her calm fortitude in battle as well as her endurance on the road. Dain's quite a breeder of them. He has the best war-pigs in all of dwarf-dom," Balin said.

Fili and Kili were coming out of their stupor now, having heard about the war-pigs of their father's and grandfather's age. They began elbowing each other and whispering delightedly, glancing to the war-sow and back to each other.

Billa whimpered, "Pig!" Her face was pale and her eyes were wide, and Balin stared in concern, for she had clearly gone past shock and straight into fear.

"Billa, lass, are you all right?" he asked gently.

Billa swayed on her feet, and Balin moved closer, stretching out a hand to steady her. Billa swooned a little, leaning quite heavily into his hand. Dwalin stared, and even Thorin gave her an inquiring look.

"Don't like pigs," she managed hoarsely. "Not the- not the big ones. Dangerous," she said squeakily, her breath coming in wild little gasps. "They- stampede! My- I had a friend- she was so little- the pigs just-" she started to sob. "They- just- and her bones were- and the blood!"

Billa descended into tears, and her sobs were punctuated by gasping little whimpers and she clung weakly to Balin who was the nearest dwarf to her. He stared, wide-eyed, at the others but patted her back soothingly, just as she had held him when he wept in front of the visiting Men. He gently guided her away from the path they had cleared by the East Gate, away from Dain's approaching forces, to a nook just around the corner. They were out of sight, but still within the keen hearing of the others.

Balin could hear them murmuring to each other as Billa sniffled onto his shoulder.

"Who would have thought-"

"Tough little lass, facing down wargs but trembling at the sight of-"

"She makes a point, though, fragile little things, hobbits are,"

"-imagine being that little and getting caught beneath those sharp hooves!"

"Sounded like she saw that happen."

"Must've been bad, to make her go white like that."

"Must have. Tough little thing, our hobbit."

"Mmm. Clever too, with her little tea parties and her smuggling."

"And her barrels!"

"And her recipes-," said Fili.

"'Skin them first!'" Kili imitated.

Billa gave a soft huff of laughter at that, and Balin realized that hobbit ears must be just as sharp as dwarf ears.

"Thank you," Billa said quietly, after she'd regained her breath, but Balin knew all the dwarves could all hear her. "It's been a long, terrifying, uncomfortable journey since you showed up at my doorstep," she said, and Balin could almost see the dwarves hunching their shoulders in unison. "But I was dying, there in the Shire, rotting away a little each day. I feel like I've gained a family again, and a purpose. I'm so glad you came to my door that night, and I'm so glad I followed after you the next morning. I just..." she sighed, with a self-deprecating huff of laughter. "Just... don't let the pig get me, okay?" she said.

Balin gave her a hug and then helped her to her feet.

"We can do that, lass," he said, and around the corner there was a chorus of "Aye," "Yes," and "Yes Billa!"

Billa smiled again, wiping away the last of her tears.

"Come now, lass," Balin said. "We can either go to the kitchens and putter around until they're all inside the mountain and the pigs are penned up, or we can go back to the gate and trust in the knowledge that each of the dwarves in this mountain would happily jump between you and danger, even if the danger is only in your head and your memories. What do you say, Billa?" he asked.

Billa let out a long gusting sigh. "You won't let the pigs get me?" she asked again.

"We won't let the pigs get you," Balin confirmed.

"Nor even get near me?" she pressed.

"There will be a dwarf between you and the pigs at every moment," he promised her.

Billa chewed her lip for a moment and mustered her courage.

"I suppose it would be rude not to welcome Dain and his warriors at the gate," she said, and Balin smiled.

"That's the spirit," Balin said, and there were echoing cheers from the dwarves as Balin and Billa walked back around the corner.

Billa started to walk back to where she had been standing, at the side of the gate, but Thorin cut her off with a cough.

"Here, burglar," he said without looking at her, nocking his head to indicate the place next to him. Billa blinked in surprise, but obeyed, although she avoided looking out to where the pig was approaching.

"Thorin?" she questioned as she came to his side.

"Dain will dismount before he comes to greet me, as is proper. His pig will be taken off to the side, where you were standing before. If you want to go back," he groused, staring straight forward, "by all means, do. I'm sure the pig would love to meet you."

"You -chm!- are one of the most confusing persons alive," she told him, coughing over the lump in her throat.

"Oh?" he said, sounding disinterested. Billa narrowed her eyes at him.

"Sometimes I'm not sure if you're a prickly cactus, or a soft, cuddly cotton-ball," she said. An expression of dismay flooded Thorin's face as she voiced her confusion. He raised an eyebrow, seeking enlightenment but still refusing to look to her. "You do the sweetest things sometimes, but it's as if you try to do them in the most disagreeable way possible."

He huffed in disdain. Kili and Fili snickered a little, grinning at Billa in agreement.

"Is it not allowed? To be openly sweet? I mean, I'm quite sure that if Dwalin decided that tomorrow he wanted to go around giving out flowers and singing love poems, no one would dare say him nay. Sure, they'd look and they'd wonder, but no one would dare snicker to his face, because he could smash them with a smile and both hands and a leg tied behind his back. So, even if it _is_ against some dwarfish, masculine code to be sweet, I'm pretty sure you could break it. Let's be honest- after facing down wargs and orc-packs and goblins and- Valar forbid- _elven hospitality_ , and oh, sure, a dragon, I think you can afford to be nice without having to be such a -"

"Burglar," Thorin said cutting her off. He was finally looking at her, eyebrows raised in astonishment, amusement, and warning. "Dain's approaching. Quiet, or I'll feed you to the pig."

Billa huffed grumpily, not amused, and fell quiet. But when Thorin looked forward again, she couldn't help the little smile that tugged at her mouth. No matter how much he protested, she knew the truth. He wasn't a cactus, not anymore. He was definitely a soft, cuddly cotton-ball.


End file.
